Journal 11.5.24

News From The Cul-De-Sac: Vol. 1

It currently feels kind of sad here.

There is a very obvious lack of it being the Halloween season.

Oh, there are pumpkins on porches, but even those are kind of minimum.

example of sparse display of pumpkin on porch decoration

No purple or orange light displays, no blow-ups, no 16-foot skeletons (thankfully), no other fun (non-scary) stuff.

Is everyone here a Jehovah's Witness?

Meanwhile, my Halloween stuff is sitting in a box in the garage because we are unsure if we'll be considered the heathen new neighbors if we decorate beyond the copious amount of pumpkins I've already put out around our property.  

Our new neighborhood could be considered upscale. Do upscale neighborhoods forego Halloween decorations? Is it considered gauche or classe inférieure?  Should I care*?

I needed answers/validation to this so I checked with JP's boss, who is very wealthy and lives in a very wealthy area. I doubted that he would put out blowups on the gazillion dollar lawn of his gazillion dollar mansion in his gazillion dollar neighborhood but I asked him anyway and he said, unsurprisingly, that he just pays people to put up lights and stuff, but no blowups and the like.  I told him about the lack of decorations here and he said, in essence, that if he had a bunch of blowups he'd put them out at his house and not care one bit what anyone thought (that's the nice version of what he actually said which was, to paraphrase, "who gives a !&*#$ what anyone thinks" - he's fun like that).  

For the record, we have one single blowup and it's completely not cheap or cheesy. It's fun and happy and unscary I love it very much.

This is a video of our Halloween decorations at our old not-very-upscale house in the not-very-upscale neighborhood we used to live in:

I'm putting it up today. 

Chances are, I'll even have a bunch of candy at the ready on Halloween just in case my tree blowup acts as a beacon that day for happy little trick or treaters.   

* no.

Journal - 10.1.24

North Carolina ♥

I can't stop thinking about western North Carolina - I've got a whole bunch of memories from that area since I spent half my childhood at my father's house in Pilot Mountain, an hour or so east of there.

There was one day that always stands out.

We went to Boone and Blowing Rock and every other place all around there.

We drove and drove and talked and talked - just me and my dad - and ate the pimento cheese sandwiches (my dad's favorite) we brought with us along the way.

We stopped at Mystery Hill - this really strange place where there's a gravitational pull that makes you stand crooked.

We went to Grandfather Mountain and I sat on the edge of a boulder, where I didn't realize at first that my feet were dangling over a God knows how many feet drop because the view of those mountains is so freakin' amazing it makes you lose your senses.

A million memories in that one day.

Anyway, sometimes a memory is even better when you can share it. These are some pictures of me from that day.

Pray for North Carolina

Mystery Hill

Today's Anti-Anxiety Watercolor 9.25.24

Alfajores + I ♥ Butter

You're thinking, is she really writing a post about butter, of all things?

Yes, I am. If you are new here then you haven't yet gotten to know that I'm a little bit left of center. I write about whatever I want,  especially stories/anecdotes from my life, thoughts in my weird head, and I really like adding a bit of my mediocre art for emphasis.  

But let's talk about butter...

For the past two weekends we have been going to the farmer's market in Berlin, Maryland - one of my most favorite places.  I was particularly excited to go there because I had recently discovered a business based out of Rehoboth Beach, DE - gather Alfajordes - and they are a vendor at the Berlin market (and several others in this area). I had never heard of alfajordes but based on the pictures and descriptions I knew I had to try these things.

The best way I can describe the alfajordes (traditional) that I purchase(d) from gather Alfajordes is to think of the the best possible shortbread cookies you could ever want to eat in your entire life. Now take two of them and put some dulce con leche inside and some finely powdered sugar on top so that you now have the best filled shortbread-type cookie you will ever eat in your entire life.  Yes, they are that good.  

There were two in this box but I ate the other one.

gather Alfajordes has a website that will make you want to hightail to the Delaware/Maryland shore areas to buy pretty much everything they sell. That's how I felt as I took in all that I saw on their website (and lucky for me, I live in their area) but there was one other thing on their website that jumped off the page and got my heart pounding:  French butter.

That's right, they sell French butter.  But not just any French butter! Oh no, the butter they sell is La Conviette and it comes in sweet little rolls that are rolled up Tootsie Roll style.  Sweet little French butter rolls, can you imagine anything better?!  

Do you know about French butter? Do you know that if you try French butter you will question what in the heck kind of subpar butter have you been eating all your life?  Maybe you've picked up some Irish or European butter that's in all the supermarkets now and you're thinking that you know what good butter is. You are wrong.  You are so wrong in your wrongness!  My apologies to Irish butter - and I'm an O'Brien - but it is nothing like the ethereal experience of French butter.  This particular butter, La Conviette, is delicate and creamy and there is something magical about its salt, which is like nothing I've ever tasted before.

...

I found this description of La Conviette on the internet: A premium French butter made from high-quality milk sourced from the Charentes-Poitou region of western France. This region is renowned for its rich and creamy milk, which is perfect for producing high-quality butter.

The butter is made using traditional methods, with the cream being churned in wooden barrels, which gives the butter its unique texture and flavor.

...

The only problem is that French butter is not so easy to come by and if you try to order it online you will find that it's probably sold out and that when it is available you are going to pay through the teeth to have it shipped to you.

You know what I say about that?  So what. Order it anyway because it is 1000% worth it. 

gather Alfajordes was out of the the butter initially but they told me they were awaiting a shipment that was coming from France and that I should watch their website where they would post that it was available for ordering once they received it.  I did exactly that and picked up my order in Berlin this past weekend.  The butter is now safely in my freezer where it will remain until I have some for my birthday in October. I'm going to order some more so that I have it on hand for the holidays.

Anyway, this whole recent butter buying thing got me thinking about where this butter love of mine came from and I was delightfully reminded of an event from my very early childhood...  

When It Began:  I have a very clear memory - age 3 or 4? -  of laying eyes on the container of Breakstone's Whipped Butter that was a staple in our house and whisking (no pun intended) it away to my secret lair under the tablecloth-covered kitchen table where I happily indulged in eating it straight out of the container until I was eventually stone cold busted.  I'm sure it was my sibling who ratted me out as my sibling looked for any opportunity to get me in trouble.

"Mom, Sharon's eating butter under the kitchen table"

Where It Continued:  Fast forward to spending my summer and Christmas vacations at my father's house in North Carolina (ages 7-15), where he lived in long-term sin with his girlfriend Alice, who had attended Le Cordon Bleu in Paris and who decided to teach me French cooking whenever I was in residence. 

This was the 70s and it was in Pilot Mountain, NC (Mount Pilor on the Andy Griffith show) and French butter was not something that could be purchased anywhere unless you hopped on the Concorde and did a quick round trip to France.  So lacking the money for Concorde airfare and a local source for many of the called-for ingredients in our French recipes, we made do with what we had. 

But Alice would regale me with stories about Paris and the Seine, about romance and exquisite meals and wine, and about baguettes and croissants and, of course, French butter in their humble little house with a perfect view of Pilot Mountain.  

Alice (& Dad, too, who just kind of went along with whatever she wanted) gave me French story books and French dictionaries and French language books and I fell in love with all things French in the very tiny town of Pilot Mountain, North Carolina, population 1,300.  It was Alice who introduced me to foods I'd never heard of in my other life at my mother's house in Elizabeth, NJ.  

My mother, who had zero interest in cooking, ate to live. Alice and my father lived to eat and it was because of them that I became a lifelong "foodie" - for lack of a better term - and a lover of high quality ingredients.  

Monsieur le Beurre

For fun, I did a Pinterest & Google search for 'butter tattoos' and the results did not disappoint. 

Imagine loving butter so much you would want it permanently inked onto your skin...

"Butter Me Up" tattoo by Meredith Little Sky of Terrarium Tattoo

Artist Unknown - if you know let me know

Further Reading:

We Tasted 13 Fancy Butters and This Is The Best One

French Butter: Better Than Other Butter?

This Might Explain Me A Little Better

In case you were wondering why an allegedly grown-up woman - me - does what I do.

The Perils Of Not Sending USPS First Class

Recently, a dear friend of mine sadly lost her mother.

I set to work right away to make her a rememberance gift (wire art heart) along with a watercolor card expressing my sympathy and condolences.

I bundled it up, wrapped it in bubble wrap, packaged it in a yellow mailing envelope, addressed it to my friend at her Florida address.

JP took it to the post office for me on August 24th and they collectively decided not to send it first class so it wouldn't be run through the mail processing machines, risking damage.

I definitely should have put it in a box instead of an envelope but never in a million did I think it would be a big deal.

Until it turned into a big deal.

When it had not arrived to her two weeks later and the tracking information for it showed nothing, I went to the post office and had them look into it.  

Here is what they said:

Resigning myself to it being out of my control, my friend and I would each periodically check the tracking which said nothing other than "your package is running late but is still on track for delivery".

Then on 9/6 it showed movement! The package was at the USPS Regional Facility in Merrifield, VA. Terrific, I thought, it's moving south finally on its way to Florida.

Except, no.

On 9/7 it arrived at the Mid New York Distribution Center, which I guess is somewhere in mid New York 😀

Somehow the package had traveled north.  Its journey now included lower Delaware to Virginia to New York.  

You know how when you look into booking a flight to somewhere and there's a stop along the way that completely does not make sense?  Like, you're going to Florida from Philadelphia but there's a stopover in Detroit? Do mail packages have layovers similar to passenger airlines?  

But wait...would you believe that on 9/9 it showed up in New Castle, Delaware, which is one hour or so north of my house?

So lower Delaware to Virginia to New York to New Castle, DE.

Then on 9/10 it went to the Wilmington, Delaware Distribution Center, also just over an hour north from my house.

But best of all is that today, 9/11, it arrived at the USPS Facility in...Harrington, Delaware, which is my local post office. 

Tracking now is showing that it's out for delivery...to my house.

17 days after mailing it and it has come full circle, somehow returning to me instead of being delivered to my friend in Florida.  I can't wait to see what the package says when it gets here.

I'm also a little afraid to see what condition it's going to be in.

Assuming that it will be undamaged, what do I do next?  Take my chances again and mail it in a box this time, first class, and see where it winds up this time?  UPS? FedEx? DHL?

......

Here is the package and apparently the reason why it circled the East Coast for 17 days: 

I've sent tons of stuff addressed like this in the past with no issues.  Also, if it isn't acceptable to do this, why didn't the post office lady flag it when JP brought it in?

Whatever!

Purveyor Of Fun

From time to time I feel like it's important to clarify why I have this blog and post the things that I do.

Primarily it's simply because I want to.  

Writing here makes me happy, is therapeutic, and is a catalyst & outlet for my creativity. 

Sometimes I'm serious and, more often than not, other times it's silly nonsense.
Once upon a time, my coworkers bestowed upon me title of 'Purveyor Of Fun' - it is a role I have taken very seriously ever since!

I write and post here mostly for myself - an online diary kinda thing - and if others* happen to stumble upon and enjoy it, too...well, that just bonus.  

I do not promote this blog in any way except via the link to it on my main website.

Ultimately, it's just fun.

And if you are not doing things that are fun I urge you to reconsider and start having the most fun you can immediately.  

Please don't buy in to the idea that you feel like you're too old to do fun, silly, things.
Perhaps you think "no, that's not age appropriate".  

That's a surefire way to jump on the Get Old Fast Highway...which is a road you should do your best to avoid.

The Haters (you know who you are) come here just to snoop and scoff which is fine.  I'm having a thousand times more fun than they are anyway.  (Case in point:  I'm not spending one minute of my time snooping and/or scoffing or giving a single thought or care to what they're doing.)

Misheard Lyrics - Bob Dylan

Monday Mishmosh

Yesterday was JP's birthday...or as he would say "just another day".

God, I hate people who say that about their birthdays.

I get that it's his day and he can do with it whatever he wants, but I sort of like the idea that there's one day out of 365 "just another day(s)" that is not an ordinary day.  It's a special day because you were born on it and if you are not of the mind to celebrate that single, remarkable,God-given, life-affirming event...well, I guess that's your right to be a curmudgeon.

However! Your apathy toward the day can possibly drive other people nuts - especially if they're me someone who fervently believes in celebrating birth days.

So the day went like this:  breakfast on the back deck, enjoying the lovely cool morning we were lucky to have..a trip to Lowe's for some house projects stuff...a few hours of outside house projects...

Weekend Recap 32/52 I Am Not A Cheap Junk Stealer

JP had a rare 3-day weekend which was really, really nice except for the part where we couldn't do much of anything because it was too freakin' hot.

How are people outside in the inferno weather we've been having?  Because my lungs have not been the same since my double lung collapse (pneumothorax) in 2009, I literally cannot breathe once the temperature hits more than 80°F-ish and especially when the dew point and humidity are at the Saharan desert levels even though the Sahara desert is 5,863 miles away from my location in Delaware.

None of this weather stuff wound up mattering much on Friday. We awoke with excitement and a "seize the day" outlook. Yay, 3-day weekend! kind of thing.

Then, as we were enjoying our morning coffee, we noticed that our well pump wouldn't stop cycling after the yard sprinklers ran.  This prompted a bunch of phone calls, then a visit from the emergency plumber because our regular plumber was on a jobsite and couldn't get away right away.

The emergency plumber inspected the situation and said "oh, big problems" and "you have 3 options", then provided three quotes for those 3 options - $2000, $4000, $6000.He also advised that financing was available!

Thankfully, JP realized he was a crook and sent him on his way.  Our regular plumber came by a few hours later, laughed heartily at the 3 estimates we were given, then proceeded to upgrade our entire system (which did not have "big problems" afterall) for the very fair price of $1600. 

Those emergency service companies have their place if, let's say, you are in a real bind/emergency, but know that they will always charge you excessively.  My advice is to get in touch and establish a relationship with a local guy who also handles emergency calls before you have any problems.

That was our Friday, which ended with wine time inside the house because it was too hot to be on the deck.

On Saturday afternoon after spending the first half of the day asking each other multiple times "what do you want to do?" and answering with "I don't know, what do YOU want to do?", we decided to take a ride to an antique place we've been to before that's just over the border in Maryland, thrilled that it's just under 30 minutes now from our new Delaware house.  Nothing makes me happier than walking around these kinds of antique stations looking at a bunch of junk things that I could possibly buy and clutter my house with.

When we arrived and entered the store the lady at the counter said "Hello..." and before we could respond in kind, finished with "....here is a key for you to lock your bag up" as she extended her arm toward us with some kind of key dangling from her fingertips.

"I'm sorry, what?" I queried.

"You have to lock your bag up in a locker," she stated.

"Uh, I don't think so," I stated back, sweetly.

For an awkward moment, she stood looking at us as we stood looking at her.



I was contemplating just leaving during that awkward moment but I wasn't sure what to do because sometimes I'm a hothead and I can sometimes overreact a teensy tiny bit when I think someone is being an &*$#* unreasonable person and also, it was Africa hot outside and we'd already wasted half the day not knowing what to do with ourselves and I didn't want to go home and go back to asking each other what we wanted to do.

Instead I said "well, no, I'm not locking up my bag" and then I took my wallet out and JP put my bag back in the truck. 

I then proceeded to walk around the place telling JP sort of loudly not to touch anything because I didn't want anyone to think he was trying to steal one of the very many $2 garage sale junk items valuable and priceless antiques the place is overly filled with .

I was a little bit mad.

Then I got a little bit madder when I saw a couple of other ladies who were customers walking around with their handbags over their shoulders.  Granted, mine was bigger than theirs but it wasn't as if I were walking around with an empty IKEA bag slung across me.  

At one point even JP said that he was pretty mad, too.  

Because, here's the thing:  if the first thing that happens when I walk into your store is that I am made to feel like you think I am a potential criminal, I'm not feeling warm and welcomed and it is very likely that none of my many credit cards are going to be used in your establishment on that or any other day in the future.
  

Also, I'm not handing over my handbag to a stranger to handle. What if there's a fire while I'm shopping and my handbag burns up? Who is going to reimburse the $8,294 I had in my wallet (yes, I carry that much around with me ALL the time!)? What is the store policy for that? What if I have an asthma or heart attack at the back of the (dusty) store and have to now walk through the store to get to the counter and wait even longer for someone to unlock the locker where my bag is being stored so I can get the inhaler or nitroglycerin and hopefully not die in the meantime?  

The point is that people keep important stuff beyond money and credit cards in their bags and if a store has some kind of "hand over your bag because we think you could be a thief with that thing" policy, then I'm not shopping there that day or any other day.

I get that shoplifting is rampant and stores need to take actions against that. We were in the grocery store the other day and the laundy detergent was secured in plastic boxes that had to be unlocked if you wanted to purchase any!  When I was a manager at a Borders bookstore, the hotspots for the highest incidence of theft had more cameras and were monitored more closely by employees plus some of most stolen items were locked up and had to be asked for (the religion section was #1 for theft, not  kidding).  I do not get arbitrarily treating some customers as potential thiefs - i.e. requesting that I lock up my bag but other ladies didn't have to.

By the way, here is a picture of the handbag I was carrying that day:  

12" ruler and Perrier bottle for scale. So, you can see that it's not a gigantic bag in which to steal antiques (:::eye roll:::).  That set of vintage china is probably not going to fit in there.

More info: Is It Legal For Stores To Force Me To Leave My Backpack At The Front Desk
https://www.quora.com/Is-it-legal-for-stores-to-force-me-to-leave-my-backpack-at-the-front-desk-whele-I-am-shoping-front-What-if-I-have-valuables-in-it-and-I-dont-wish-to-leave-it-with-strangers

We tried to go to Rehoboth on Saturday night but the traffic was insane.  We moved one block in 20+ minutes so we skedaddled out of there and decided that we wouldn't go back until season was over. Instead we drove through Lewes and wound up running into these two:

I got a new graphics tablet that beats by a mile the more expensive Wacom ones I've been using. 

Now that summer is starting to wane, I can feel my mood lifting and recently felt my creativity stirring to create photo art again.  Summer is so terrible for me and I genuinely spend my days just existing. It's wonderful when I start to feel hopeful again and more myself.  It kind of took me by surprise when I felt the need to create a new photo art piece but I went with it. The Wacom tablet I had is terrible and messes up my computer so I had to create this piece using the mouse. It's not my best...but not my worst either.  

Flickr featured it by giving it the Explore award, which is a really high honor.  Having an image chosen for Explore means that your work was singled out for its excellence.  It's given to 500 members each day and considering that on average 25 million (!!!) pictures are uploaded to Flickr each day...you can understand why being chosed for Explore is such a really big deal.

You can see it on my Flickr account by clicking HERE and see all of my art on Flickr HERE..

"The Odd Uneven Time*"

"...and all at once, summer collapsed into fall."

- oscar wilde

such a melancholy time, isn't it?

the fading of long summer days and the anticipation of september with its new beginnings (no matter how old you are!) and soft, soothing light. 

i'm ready, how about you?

(*original photo credit: sherrie buchner)